Chapter 141: It Works (2)

Chapter 141: It Works (2)

The old bank building was renovated into Arkham Sanatorium, located in the southern financial district of Manhattan, not on Wall Street but on the east corner of 14th Street intersection.

It was built by a British businessman who invested here in the 1930s, so its exterior looks somewhat like the goblin bank in Gringotts, with white walls and intricate window decorations.

As Nick Fury said, the building is well-maintained, both the exterior and the interior.

The interior is mostly furnished with wooden furniture, and the lobby has excellent natural lighting due to the presence of multiple floor-to-ceiling windows.

The iconic revolving door from the last century has also been preserved. Upon entering the gate, you face the main counter, with two huge staircases on both sides, adorned with crystal chandeliers hanging above. The wooden floors below are mature honey-colored, showing some historical traces but not appearing old-fashioned.

The overall architecture is not symmetrical, with the main building on the east side, where most of the patient rooms are located, and the west side housing outpatient and functional facilities.

Because this old bank is not located on Wall Street, the price of the land was not high when it was purchased, and the space is relatively spacious, with 7 floors above and below ground. There are about 60 usable rooms on the east side and more than 30 on the west side. Behind the second floor on the west side, there is also an aerial garden on the third floor.

The person who built this bank spared no expense, and the interior is extremely luxurious, with a decadent and comfortable style that fits the aesthetic of old money at that time. Therefore, it does not require much modification and directly satisfies the aesthetics and practicality of an Sanatorium.

Strange walked through the corridor on the third floor of the hospital, with a nurse behind him flipping through her notebook, saying, "Mr. Eisen on the second floor wants to drink special drinking water, and Mrs. Harris on the third floor hopes we can prescribe eye drops with immortal factor..."

"I'm going to have a meeting with the director now. I'll deal with these matters after the meeting."

Strange went upstairs and turned left to the director's office located on the far east side of the fourth floor. When he entered, Schiller was opening a bottle of champagne. Strange said impatiently, "Are you planning to drink champagne now? Isn't it too early? There are a lot of rotten messes waiting to be cleaned up."

He threw a stack of materials onto Schiller's desk and said, "You've been too busy accepting so many appointment patients that the office system of this sanatorium is not yet complete. Suddenly, fifty to sixty patients rushed in and the doctors and nurses are going crazy."

"Don't worry," Schiller said leisurely as he took two glasses out of the cabinet and gestured for Strange to sit down. He poured himself a glass of wine, then poured one for Strange and said, "SHIELD agents have already been trained and a batch should be arriving this afternoon."

"Agents? You told me this morning that there were emergency medical personnel being transferred. Are they agents?" Strange asked.

"Of course. And not only do I not have to pay them, but Nick is also giving me money," Schiller replied.

Strange opened his mouth, not stupid enough to not know what agents were there for. "Are you selling the patients' private information to the agent organization?" he asked.

"Stephen, look up. Where are the patients? They eat the most expensive skincare products in the world. Even if they get a scratch, they have the best private doctors to take care of them," Schiller said with one hand in his pocket and the other holding a glass of wine. "They're not here for treatment."

"Of course I know that they're here for your eternal youth theory that you made up," Strange scoffed.

Schiller shook his head, put down his glass of wine, and said, "That's just one aspect. Have you heard of Noah's Ark?"

"God wanted to destroy the world with a flood, so he built an ark. The number of people that the ark could accommodate was limited, and only a tiny fraction of people could survive."Nêww chapters will be fully updated at novelhall.com

"When things evolve to this point, what happens after boarding the ship is no longer important. What's important is that they're willing to pay a high price for a ticket to prove themselves as God's chosen ones in front of all mankind," Schiller said.

"If you were the captain of Noah's Ark, no matter how well the ship was sailing, God wouldn't let a vampire like you in." Strange also picked up his glass and took a sip.

"How many medical staff do you need?"

Strange thought for a moment and then said, "We need at least 50 or more. There are hardly any caregivers on the third and fourth floors, and they are all clamoring for private nurses."

"I didn't ask for the minimum, I asked for the maximum."

"Letting vampires promote Medicine made from their own kind? What are you thinking? How could he possibly agree?"

"But he's already here, isn't he?"

"My situation is special. I hate these rats. They are my enemies. I wish humans would kill them all."

"How do you know you're the only one with a special situation?"

Schiller said sincerely, "Eric, you have to understand, relying on your own strength alone is not enough."

"I heard that you have connections with your clan. You can ask the moderate faction what their plan is for dealing with the radical faction. If you don't mind, I can do some business with them."

"Business? What kind of business do you want to do?"

"I'll take care of their political enemies and turn them into medicine to sell. I can give them 20%, which is already high. Even Nick can only take 30%."

Blade opened his mouth and paused for a moment before saying, "This is ridiculous, but..." Blade was quite puzzled and said, "It is indeed a bit Strange that humans are promoting Medicine made from vampire ingredients on a large scale. I thought the moderate faction would start protesting."

"Perhaps you haven't considered that those vampires with a voice don't care if their own kind are made into medicine, as long as it's not themselves."

"On top of that, if their enemies are turned into medicine, then it's even better."

"And if the whole process doesn't even require them to take action, just provide humans with a little insignificant information, they can fully attack their political enemies, make them exhausted, and even wipe them all out. Then why not do it?"

"If they don't have to pay anything and can even gain a lot of money and resources in the process, why wouldn't they be tempted?"

"In the end..." Schiller concluded, "moderate vampires just want to enjoy life, and in order to enjoy life in human society, they need status and money. They want these things, so we provide them with these things and exchange them for their same kind's enemies."

"After they get used to this luxurious lifestyle and all the radical factions are eliminated, they will spontaneously select a portion of their group to give to us in exchange for the capital needed to continue maintaining this extravagant lifestyle."

"Under the rule of pure blood, their society will gradually be sacrificed from bottom to top to humans."

"Perhaps..." Schiller sighed and said, "In this world, there will only be one vampire at the beginning and the end, and that is the immortal Dracula."

Strange and Blade remained silent. After a while, Strange said, "I don't care about these big things. I'm just an ordinary doctor. I want to know what benefits this can bring to me?"

"Now that you have become the attending physician of this sanatorium, no matter how the spoils are divided, you will not be left out. This is the benefit that an entire race can bring."

"What you have to do now is to imagine how comfortable it would be to lie in a villa and count money."

Strange swallowed, and he couldn't even imagine such a life. But he still said reservedly, "I don't love money that much. I am a person with pursuits."

Blade shook his head and said, "Money?... Money is a terrible thing."

"But it's useful." Schiller picked up his glass. The golden liquid reflected on the lenses of his eyes, making it difficult to see his gaze.

"It's very useful, and it's always useful."